


Seven : Mary Elizabeth Frye, Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep / I Am Not There. I Did Not Die

by spilled_ink



Series: The First and The Last [7]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Cemetery, Gen, Happy Ending, Melancholy, Minor Original Character(s), No Romance, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 11:58:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2190963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spilled_ink/pseuds/spilled_ink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Herc and Max visit Chuck's empty grave every week. This week, Herc takes along a friend and makes a discovery with her help. Quite honestly it's pretty much what is says on the can... but better. Hopefully.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven : Mary Elizabeth Frye, Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep / I Am Not There. I Did Not Die

**Author's Note:**

> This leads on (somewhat) from 'Road to Recovery' but can be read as a stand-alone fic if you'd like but the OFC is introduced in Road to Recovery so it might make more sense if you read that first. Or not. Whichever.

Herc runs his thumb gently over the back of Max's head and rubs small circles into his fur, drawing comfort in the familiarity of the gesture. Max, on his part, leans back into the hand and relaxes against his human's thigh, pressing into the warm. The front passenger eat is really too small for both Herc and Max but on this trip Herc wouldn't have it any other way, clinging to the last bit of friendly in his life... or the second last bit of friendly.

The first bit of friendly is driving the car, hair rustling in the breeze as they drive with the top down, her finger tapping out rhythms against the steering wheel. She glances at him, feeling him staring, and offers a small smile. She'd told him once that making music was a distraction for her, the steady beat of fingers hitting a hard surface helping her relax, grounding her. Herc had just nodded not quite understanding but he did now. The way she had her beats he had his hands massaging Max's fur, his grip tightening as they drew close to their destination.

He'd never taken anyone else with him, aside from Max that is. It had always been just them in the silence, respectfully sombre, heads bowed as Herc thought about how everything had gotten to where it was and Max lay down over the gravestone as if waiting for a phantom hand to pet his fur or tickle his chin.

"Ready?" her voice breaks him from his reverie and Herc nods, squinting in the sunlight but pushing his shades off his face.

"This is a big step. Are you sure you want to do this? I can wait in the car if you'd like." she offers gently, her hand ghosting over his to offer support.

He nods then shakes his head. Yes, he want to do this and no, she should come with him. He grasps at Max's leash, his fingers curling around the leather strap and pushes the door open. Herc hesitates for a fraction of a second before stepping out, Max pulling him forward through the wrought iron gates of the cemetery.

Cemetary.

They're here. It his him hard and he pauses before glancing over at the woman who just nods an waits for Herc to lead the way.

He clears his throat and breaks into a brisk walk, pushing himself on, his feet automatically tracing a path to the empty grave where Chuck's body should lie. They'd never recovered his body. Maybe, his brain flickers to life as the familiar gravestone makes its way into his line of vision, maybe that's why it's so hard for him to let go. Because he has nothing to let go of. He draws to a halt, stopping on the green turf, the colour dappled by light falling through gaps between trees and thinks tha maybe she'd be proud of him making that breakthrough by himself even if she had hinted at it earlier. After all, that's what psychologists are for.

The rustling of footsteps draws his attention to her and Herc glances over to as she draws up to his side.

"Do you normally speak to him?" she asks with no pressure in his voice.

"No."

Her eyes hold his murky grey blue ones, gaze flitting over his face in search for answers. Herc is the first to look away.

"How long are you usually here for?"

"For as long as it feels right. Some days just a few minutes, other days till it grows dark." he mutters looking everywhere but at Chucks's gravestone.

_Died fighting the good fight_   it reads, the phrase ingrained in his memory, and Herc can't help but think Chuck would have liked that. The smallest smile flickers over his face before it falls again. 

"You're smiling." she notes and Herc immediately looks guilty. "I meant it as a good thing." she adds, her fingers brushing against his elbow.

"Yeah?" his voice is a little hoarse.

"Yeah." she lets the silence envelop them before breaking it again, a carefully measured pause. "What were you thinking about?"

"I was thinking he'd like the engraving." Herc admits freely letting his eyes fall onto Max who's sitting up, scratching at an impossible itch. For a second, Herc imagines Chuck bending down to scratch to put the poor dog out of its memory and he grins again, a warmth spreading over his body.She just watches his face carefully, gauging his reactions, waiting for something, anything.

Around them, the wind picks up a little and Herc pulls his jacket closer around him remembering how Chuck would always insist on not wearing anything other than a long sleeved shirt and then freezing in the cold. He chuckles, the sound odd given their setting, but comforting nonetheless. Herc glances at her for approval only to see a wide smile on her face. He tugs on Max's leash letting the dog know that they're ready to go.

"I was thinking..." Herc glances at her again, a gesture he seems to do much too often these days. "Maybe, maybe he's not dead. I was trying to accept his death this entire time but I neglected to see that he's still alive, in the smallest actions even. Would that be right?"

She smiles cryptically but it's proud smile, a smile that hold the lingering of an answer. "I'll let you decide that, Herc."

He turns away for a moment to glance around the cemetery before addressing the gravestone, a small smile gracing his features. "I'll see you later, Chuck." he breathes out quietly before tugging on Max's leash again and turning his back to the grave.

Maybe it's a good thing that it's an empty grave, that way Chuck, the little shit, Herc grins, the little shit can haunt him even when he's dead.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I hope that was okay. It was meant to be a self discovery fic for Herc but if you really really really strain I suppose you could imagine a slight tiny incy wincy implied Herc/OFC but it wasn't meant to be that, I swear. Also, I realize that HErc called Chuck a 'little shit' at the end and although it may look OOC I think it's only fair because it has always been true and that is Herc accepting Chuck, fully, for the first time in a long time and not just dwelling on the good things and playing pretend. I hope it makes sense, if not, let me know and I can explain it further. 
> 
> Have a great day guiiise.   
> Peace out and rock on \m/


End file.
